


Ianto is Sleepy

by Amuly



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-21
Updated: 2010-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto and Jack return from a night of fighting aliens, exhausted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ianto is Sleepy

Jack and Ianto stumbled onto the invisible lift, hands clutching each other for support. Jack had been mauled once by a rogue weevil, and was still recovering; some deaths were more difficult than others to recover from. Ianto, although physically unharmed, was obviously exhausted: Jack had found out upon coming back to life that he had fended off three weevils on his own, and then had to carry Jack bodily into the SUV. 

The lift began to descend, and both men stumbled as it did. Jack sputtered and coughed, trying to somehow stabilize Ianto while at the same time be supported by him. “Careful, Ianto.” 

Ianto sagged under Jack’s weight, but raised a shoulder, pulling Jack further upright. “I’m alright, Jack. I’ve got you.” 

            The lift reached the Hub floor and both men practically tripped off of it. Jack pulled away from Ianto, trying to stay on his own feet. Concerned, Ianto started after him, but Jack just waved him away. “I’ve got it, Ianto; I’m fine.” Still, Jack saw Ianto following closely behind him; he could feel Ianto’s hand hovering just behind the small of his back as he walked. A moment later, Ianto missed a step, catching it with the tip of his shoe. He stumbled and fell into Jack. 

“Ianto…”

“Stop, Jack, I’m fine.” Ianto pushed Jack’s hands away and straightened up. A flush spread across his cheeks: he was embarrassed, falling into Jack. Their eyes met for just a second, then both men looked away. Jack didn’t want Ianto’s support, and it was obvious the feeling was mutual. “Come on, we still need to write up the report,” mumbled Ianto.

Jack turned back away from Ianto and walked to his office. Ianto followed him, pulling the appropriate forms out of the filing cabinets. As he did that, Jack hung up his Greatcoat. There were some gashes in the back: Ianto would have to sew them up in the morning. Jack turned and gazed at Ianto as he located the proper forms. “Hey, Ianto.” Ianto turned, and Jack pulled him into a gentle kiss. Jack could feel Ianto relax into the kiss, knees almost giving out from under him. Jack’s hand reached up to stroke through Ianto’s hair, and he pulled back. “Why don’t you go downstairs? Get ready? I’ll just take a minute.”

Ianto’s hesitation was obvious. Jack cupped his cheek lightly and stared him down. “Ianto, go.”

“You’re just going to fill out the forms too quickly, and I’ll have to redo them in the morning.”

“Promise I won’t. You can even _punish_ me if I do them wrong.” Jack leaned in and leered at Ianto. He just shook his head.

“Alright, fine.” Ianto conceded. “I’ll be downstairs, waiting.” With one last arched eyebrow, Ianto descended the ladder to Jack’s bunk. For a moment Jack stared after him, filthy thoughts flickering through his mind. Then he shook himself and turned to his desk. Right, paperwork. Ianto had already laid out the three forms he needed to fill out: alien encounter, death of an employee (Jack insisted that he didn’t have to fill those out every time he died, but Ianto had convinced him it might come in handy one day to have each death on record), and discharging firearms. 

Five minutes later, Jack tossed his pen on the desk. Good enough. Ianto wouldn’t notice if he slipped out later tonight to check over the forms for errors and file them. Now: to Ianto.

Jack climbed down the ladder, images of a naked and erect Ianto sprawling deliciously on his bed floating through his mind. He spun around as soon as his feet hit the ground, then stopped. The sight before him wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting.

Ianto was sprawled out on Jack’s bed, that much was accurate. But most of his clothes were still on: jacket, shoes, and tie being the only things that made it off. The tie was even still in Ianto’s hand, dangling loosely from his fingers. And Ianto wasn’t erect and waiting for Jack: he was asleep, mouth open and soft little snores floating out of it. Jack ran a hand through his hair, but the smile forcing its way onto his face belied his frustration. Ianto needed the rest: that much was obvious. And he just looked so…Jack stopped himself before he could begin to think the word “cute”. Ianto would kill him if the word actually crossed his mind.

As quietly as he could, Jack shucked off his boots, braces, shirt, trousers, and vest. Gingerly he slipped in behind Ianto in pants, pulling the covers up over the both of them as he did. Ianto shifted into him, a small sigh escaping his lips. Damn it, he _was_ cute: there was no denying it. Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto and pulled him close, (not that there was much choice on the small bunk) and kissed him on the forehead. Ianto mumbled something, but Jack couldn’t make it out. It was probably just exhausted dream nonsense, anyway. 

Almost immediately after Ianto was safely tucked away in his arms, Jack felt himself falling asleep. Vaguely he wondered when he started to only sleep when Ianto was with him, or when he had started not to mind falling asleep without sex – not that it happened often. It must be his age - he was turning into an old man. _More like_ , the thought floated through his head just as he fell asleep, _turning into an old married couple_. 

   



End file.
